Katie

I woke up on Saturday, February 17th pleasantly surprised to see snow out my window. The tree branches, cars, and street signs were laced with white, and the cold, crisp air bled through my poorly insulated window. I decided that I would treat today like a true snow day, like the snow days of my childhood, when one inch of snow would send my hometown into a tizzy and we’d have at least a few days off from school.

I yawn and stretch and pull on two pairs of socks before starting my little morning tasks. Slowly I got dressed, made the bed, brushed my teeth, and extended my modest Duolingo Japanese streak before pulling on my big coat and walking out the front door. I made sure to be quiet because both men that I live with (my boyfriend Camilo and my cat Franklin) were still asleep. I headed a few blocks north to visit my local coffee shop, which is where I can be found most mornings.

I got a cappuccino and sat down in my normal seat by the windows. I’ve been going to this coffee shop for so long now that I’ve gotten to know most of the regulars. My favorite regular is George, who has lived in this neighborhood his entire life. George just celebrated his 79th birthday. My other favorite regular is Artemy, a professor at a local college and a fellow writer. I try not to bother Artemy too much because he’s usually there to write, but sometimes I can’t help myself. Then there’s Matthew, Maddie, Liam, Tim, Jenny, Sofie, Carlo, and the list goes on. I never thought I’d have true connections with my neighbors (perhaps because I prefer the city to the country, and perhaps because I just assumed that actually knowing your neighbors was a strictly pre-Y2K phenomenon.) This shop is a huge part of what makes me feel at home in this city.

How’s the book coming along? How are your kids? Seen any good movies lately? Can you believe this weather we’re having? No, I haven’t tried the maple jawn but I hear it’s amazing.  

I sat by some friends, and I alternated between chatting, reading, and sipping my coffee. I’m currently reading Death Valley, the new release from Melissa Broder, and I’m absolutely loving it. I love the social interactions that coffee shops engender. They’re low-impact, casual, and warm. We look up from our books and laptops to chat here and there, but feel no pressure or awkwardness when our work pulls us away. It’s always temporary, anyway. It’s a lovely little cycle that you just have to submit to.

Sitting in this coffee shop reminds me of being in college, when I’d post up in the student lounge, ostensibly there to work but eager to talk with whoever ended up sitting across from me. In fact, that’s actually how I met my boyfriend. We got to know each other over a series of conversations in the busy hub that was the heart and soul of the language building at our small liberal arts college. We’ve only been dating for a few years but we’ve been friends for almost a decade, and I’m so grateful for all those late-night chats, large and small.

This morning, the coffee shop was on the quieter side. Still, there was a steady stream of people coming and going. The book I brought with me was distractingly good, so I chatted perhaps a bit less than normal. It’s strange, but I have this distinct memory of being a child and watching Will Smith talk about running and reading at the Kids’ Choice Awards one year. It had to be at least twenty years ago, maybe more. Smith had won an award for something, I’m not sure what, but his speech really stuck with me. He had thought about what to say from the perspective of I’ll have the attention of all these children for thirty seconds, what wisdom can I impart? And he talked about two things: running and reading. That’s it. And according to him, that was the secret to a good life. He talked about how if you can push yourself to run and you can be curious enough to read, it will help make you a strong, curious, empathetic person. I couldn’t have been more than 10, but the simplicity of this idea somehow burrowed itself into my brain, because running and reading have both become huge parts of my adult life. And I do like to think of them both as these clean, simple distillations of their little universes Mind and body, inside and outside, running and reading. Thanks, Will Smith.

I read for just over two hours when I felt my eyes glaze and my stomach start to rumble. I packed up my things, said goodbye to my coffee shop friends, and walked to Middle Child, the greatest sandwich shop in the world. Going to Middle Child is a guaranteed good time. Not only are the sandwiches god-tier, but there’s just always a good vibe in there. There’s one employee there named Max with the most contagious smile, and I love to sit at the counter and watch him work the register. Their best sandwich is the Shopsin, which has turkey, cranberry miso mayo, sweet pickles, bacon, avocado, and bibb lettuce on ciabatta. But if you’re ever in Philly in the late summer, the only acceptable order is the BLT, with the most massive, gorgeous, juicy heirloom tomatoes you’ve ever seen. When it’s BLT season at Middle Child, it’s common to see a line out the door and down the block. I got a sandwich for myself and one to bring home later for my boyfriend and I sat and ate at the counter, watching the rhythm of the kitchen. I’ve had lots of odd jobs over the years but I’ve never worked in a restaurant, and I wonder if that’s perhaps why there’s something so mesmerizing about them to me. Everyone seems to know what they’re doing and what they have to do next, it’s remarkable.

After saying goodbye to Max and leaving Middle Child, I headed east along Locust Street. The day was getting colder and I stuffed my hands deep into my pockets as I walked. I had a little time and energy and I wanted to pay the Athenaeum a visit. The Athenaeum, founded in 1814, is a membership library here in Philadelphia. And at $75 for a whole year, it’s a hell of a lot more affordable than a traditional coworking space. Not to mention that it’s absolutely gorgeous. I became a member at the Athenaeum a few weeks ago, and it’s a nice quiet spot to read or write – perfect for a lazy snow day. I camped for a little in the upstairs library, careful not to track in any snow. A man near me got chastised for not silencing his cell phone and I made eye contact with the woman across from me, both of us hiding small smiles. When the loud grandfather clock chimed at 3:00 pm, I packed up and wandered out the front door.

As I walked home, I started planning out what I was going to cook for dinner. The menu for tonight’s dinner was uncharacteristically ambitious, especially considering the lazy, meandering snow day I’d been having. On a whim, I decided to make steaks. Valentine’s Day was a few days ago, and I had made steaks then, but they weren’t quite right. I was feeling stubborn all of a sudden and I wanted to take another crack at them. I read through some recipes, popped into the nearby ACME, and researched a different method for a reverse sear to try.

On the day before Valentine’s, my boyfriend and I found ourselves at a local restaurant, chatting with Taylor, the chef. I brought up our steak plans and asked him if he had any advice, and he was nice enough to share some pointers. 1) Make sure the pan is rip-roaring hot. 2) Use a meat thermometer, not a timer. 3) Cast iron all the way. When he saw my face fall slightly after the last pointer, he asked if we had a cast iron pan. I replied No, unfortunately, we don’t. In an instant he stood up and disappeared into the kitchen, only to reemerge moments later, with a cast iron skillet in a to-go bag for us. No rush getting it back to me, he smiled. Happy Valentine’s Day.

I cooked the steaks with special attention to everything I’d read, and I’m proud to report that I was much happier with the outcome the second time around, and I look forward to giving Taylor a full report when I return the skillet next week. We ate steak with asparagus and sweet potatoes and I felt the satisfaction of adding a new kitchen skill to my little repertoire. After dinner, my boyfriend and I had an exceedingly boring – if lovely – Saturday night. We decided to continue the snow day vibes with a bottle of rum, the latest Mina Le video, and a game of Scrabble. I hope my boyfriend won’t mind me disclosing how brutally I wiped the floor with him, but some things just can’t be helped.

All in all, it was a lovely little snowy Saturday. Thank you for spending it with me.

Katie is a writer in Queen Village. For bad book opinions and pictures of her cat, you can follow her on IG @ktmeeerkat